


Velveteen Wishes

by Listenerofshadows



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying tw, Death mention tw, Gen, Illness tw, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Platonic LAMP - Freeform, neglect tw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-06-26 08:51:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15659862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listenerofshadows/pseuds/Listenerofshadows
Summary: In an attic of a dilapidated house laid three toys who were just as real as you and I are. For their owner, a brown-haired boy with rosy cheeks and chestnut eyes, made them so through his love.  These three toys were all he had. They were his only friends and together they fought against evil in the Imagination Land.But evil lurks in the real world, danger that the toys cannot protect their boy from. Patton, Virgil and Logan will have to become more than mere toys to save Roman.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a reference to the Velveteen Rabbit, which is one of my all-time favorite children stories. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this! <3

In an attic of a dilapidated house laid three toys who were just as real as you and I are. For their owner, a brown-haired boy with rosy cheeks and chestnut eyes, made them so through his love. These three toys were all he had. They were his only friends and together they fought against evil in the Imagination Land.

The biggest of the toys was a light blue teddybear. He was half the boy’s current size and had been a gift when the boy had been but a babe. For as long as the boy could remember, he always had his teddybear at his side. When he was little, he had called the bear Patsy. But as the boy grew older, so did the bear in his heart’s mind.

Patsy had imaginary children and that meant he was a dad now. In the boy’s mind, all grown-ups needed serious names. Without his parents’ permission, he’d taken a book from their bookshelf. He knew he should’ve have! They were very, very angry when they found out. But both Patsy and him figured they could find a good name in a book so heavy and thick.

The book was full of big words that the boy had never seen before. He was very good at reading things. He loved reading stories. But it was hard for him to read such a big book! He and Patsy had been right, however. Because there was a lot of names in the book. The problem was finding one that was a good one.

Patsy didn’t look like a George. He wasn’t an Abraham or a Thomas either. It was towards near the end of the book when they finally found it. In the midst a page that illustrated armored tanks was a section about someone named General Patton. The boy didn’t really know who this guy was, but he sounded like an important guy! Patsy agreed with him, and that was how Patsy became Patton.

Logan came after Patton. He wasn’t truly meant for playing. He was an owl knickknack meant to collect dust on top of a shelf.  But the boy thought he looked sad sitting up there alone all by himself. The boy rescued him by standing on his tippy-toes on a chair to reach him. He dusted him off and christened him Logan, after one of his favorite superheroes, Wolverine.

He thought Wolverine was so cool with his hands that shot out razor claws. Logan didn’t understand the boy’s logic. He was an owl—and owls were smart, wise creatures. They’re nothing like Wolverine who fought with his fists. But Logan accepted the name all the same.

The boy was afraid his mother would notice the disappearance of one of her knickknacks. For several weeks, he made sure to hide Logan underneath his bed covers from his parents. But she didn’t seem to notice Logan was gone from his perch above the kitchen cupboards. For that, the boy let out a sigh of relief.

Finally, there was Virgil. He was a black cat plushie with a missing eye. The boy found him in a yard sale he attended with his mother. She dragged him along after school to look at the clothing they had to offer. Not clothing for little boys, even though the boy desperately needed new trousers. But clothing for herself. He spied Virgil on top of a pile of other plushies. While there were perfectly other good stuffed animals there, the boy’s heart ached for him.

“Please, can we get him?” The boy asked, hugging Virgil tightly to his chest.

“What? No! Put that away, it’s ratty and old! You don’t want a stuffed animal with only one eye, do you?”

“Fine.” The boy bit his lips, moving to put the stuffed animal away. But the truth was that he did want Virgil very much. When no one was looking, he snuck the stuffed animal into his backpack. He knew it was wrong to steal, but he couldn’t leave him. What if no one gave him a home?

His mother just about had a fit when she discovered what her son had done. She wanted him to return Virgil, but he begged and pleaded to keep him. He sobbed loudly until she slapped him across the face.

“Enough!” She yelled, “Quit crying and I’ll let you keep him, alright?”

The boy nodded his head as he held onto the stuffed animal tighter. Virgil was just as frightened as him when his mother threatened to get rid of him. But the black cat did his best to soothe the boy’s tears. A broken toy like him didn’t deserve such a kind and good owner. After all, his previous owner immediately abandoned him as soon as he lost his eye. He pledged to protect the boy to the best of his ability.

The boy named him Virgil after his class’s pet mouse. He thought it was funny to name a cat after a mouse. Virgil appreciated the irony.

 

* * *

 

 

It was summertime. Every day before the boy’s parents left for work, they locked him in the attic. It had always been this way since his grandmother died. The boy missed his grandmother terribly. She used to listen to his stories with the reverence his parents never had. She made cookies that both the boy and Patton loved. She told stories of her childhood that the boy and Logan loved. She comforted the boy and Virgil during fierce thunderstorms.

But without his grandmother, there was no one to watch him during the day. Rather than hire a babysitter or send him to daycare, they locked him in the attic. It was cheaper that way. With his parents, it was always about the money. The boy didn’t understand what money was apart from the fact it was boring adult stuff.

The boy thought all parents locked their children in the attic. Maybe if he was friends with other kids, he’d know it wasn’t the case. But the boy had no friends apart from his toys. The boy tried hard to make friends. But all the kids thought he was weird with his ill-washed clothes and scuffed up shoes. That was alright, because he had his imagination. In his imagination, he was a prince like in the Disney movies! He rescued people, and everyone loved him. It was the best thing ever!

Being locked inside the attic wasn’t the worse thing. It was better than being locked inside the closet. His parents only locked him inside the closet if he had misbehaved.  It was dark and scary inside the closet. He was sure a spider crawled over his foot once in there. Worse of all, he usually didn’t have any of his toys in the closet with him. He was all alone and he hated it.

Yes, the attic was much nicer. The attic was where his bedroom was and where all his toys lived. It was in the attic where together he and his toys went on adventures in Imagination Land. His parents hated it when he played anywhere other than the attic. They claimed he was too loud and he made a mess of things.

It was a summer day—the attic was sweltering. The little fan attached to the attic window was too weak to combat the temps. It was all due to the dastardly evil Dragon Witch. She made the attic room unbelievably warm with her ferocious fire. The boy had to venture into Imagination Land to defeat her.

No matter how many times the Prince and his courageous knights of Etherwood defeated her, she’d always returned. It was endless clash of good and evil. The Dragon Witch was too pompous to realize that good always saved the day, no matter what. But where was the fun without a bad guy to fight?

“Look, that’s where her evil fortress awaits us!” The boy pointed out excitedly, his other hand held onto his sword with a firm grip.

In the distance to where he gestured, stood a dilapidated castle. Heavy fog surrounded it, making it appear even more ominous and eerie. They heard a roar echo the perimeters, sending bats scurrying out of its depths.

“Oh no, do you think there’s spiders in there?” Patton said, hiding behind Virgil.  

“You know spiders are relatively harmless—” Logan began.

“It’s a creepy old castle, of course there’s spiders.” Virgil shrugged his shoulders. Patton made concerned noises.

“It’s okay, Patton! I’ll kill the scary spiders, for ya!” The boy promised, despite being just as scared of the spiders himself.

“Thanks kiddo, you’re the best!” Patton chirped.

When they finally entered the Dragon Witch’s lair, numerous trials awaited them. They had to be careful treading their way down the shadowy hallways. One wrong step, and they’d activate a trap. Virgil led the way, his overcautious nature coming in handy.

The winding hallways led them down to the dungeons. An enormous three-headed dog guarded the entrance. The others gathered their weapons to fight the beast when Patton gasped and ran to it.

“Puppy!” He called out joyfully, petting its underbelly.

The beast responded by attacking Patton with all three of its’ tongues. He laughed as the tongues washed over him, coating him with saliva.

“Quick, while it’s distracted.” The boy whispered to the others and they raced through the gate. Once they reached the other side, he called after Patton to join them.

“Aw, alright.” Patton pouted, giving one last pet to the three-headed dog before leaving him.

The last trial before they faced was a riddle. None of them except Logan could make heads nor tails of it.

_You can carry it everywhere you go, and it does not get heavy. What is it?_

“Air?” Patton suggested.

“You can’t carry air though.” Virgil pointed out.

“You can carry a balloon full of air, or a plastic bag!” Patton grinned, “Those aren’t heavy at all!”

“It’s not something literal, Patton, it’s metaphoric.” Logan’s eyes lit up in realization, “Your name!”

The final gate creaked, startling the group, as it swung open.

“Good job, Logan!” The boy praised him.

“It was nothing.” Logan promised, although he sounded smug.

They continued walking until they reached the heart of the dungeons. There, standing in all her horrific glory was the Dragon Witch. She was in her dragon form, a great big green beast. On top of her head, was the stereotypical pointy hat with purple trim. The room burned bright with the fire from her breath.

“There you are, you evil queen!” The boy yelled.

The Dragon Witch smirked, but before she could launch into an evil monologue—he rushed at her with his sword. With his friends at his side—there was no way they could lose to her! But as the fight went on, he grew more and more weary. His thoughts grew discombobulated.

The dungeon kept glitching into his attic. Of course, he knew the Imagination Land was all make-believe. There’s a small part in every child that recognizes this truth. But usually he had a better control on it than this. His stomach grumbled. When was the last time he ate? He can’t remember if he had breakfast today. Sometimes his parents forgot to give him breakfast.

Dragon Witch’s flames furled around him as she cackled. Virgil and the others led a charge against her, but with a swipe of her tail she sent them crashing against the wall.

“Poor little prince, all alone,” She crooned as she pinned the boy underneath her claw, “what ever will he do now?”

The boy attempted reaching for his sword, but he couldn’t grasp it. Tears streamed down his cheeks. The Dragon Witch was right; he was all alone.

“Get away from him!” Three collective voices shouted at once. The Dragon Witch was taken for surprise, screeching as she tried escaping the wrath of the boy’s friends. The events that happened afterwards were blurry for the boy. His eyelids felt heavy, and his head hurt so much. Why won’t it stop hurting?

He whimpered, and something soft brushed against his cheek.

“Shhh,” A voice whispered, “You’re safe now, sleep.”

“Patsy?” The boy murmured.

“Yup, it’s your Patsy-Watsy.” The voice chuckled, “Virgil and Logan are here too. But you gotta sleep, we’ll watch over you, okay?”

“Okay.” The boy said as he drifted off to sleep.

Once certain he was unconscious, the three toys gazed at one another in concern.

“He’s getting worse, isn’t he?” Virgil asked, his tail twitching in agitation, “should we be letting him sleep? What if he doesn’t wake up?”

“I’m sure our kiddo will be right as rain!” Patton reassured, placing an arm around him, “right, Logan?”

Both Patton and Virgil looked over to Logan. He knew the most about anything and everything. His only entertainment for years had been listening to the television from his shelf.

“Rest is the best thing when a human is sick,” Logan said, hesitated, “although I do think perhaps he’s getting worse.”

“He’s going to die.” Virgil muttered darkly.

“No he isn’t!” Patton protested.

“He’s been sick for two days without food or water!” Virgil exclaimed, “all because those jerks forgot about him.”

“They didn’t forget—not on purpose, I mean—” Patton’s voice faltered, unable to put a positive spin on it, “Logan?”

He looked towards the owl for help. But the owl remained oddly silent; for once, he was unable to come up with an argument that negated Virgil’s worries.

“I’m afraid, unless he gets help soon, the outcome is bleak.” Logan said at last, his voice as fragile as the porcelain he was made of.

Patton, Logan and Virgil may be real as you and I are. But in that moment, they felt imaginary. Because as real as they were, they were still just toys. Toys couldn’t lock pick doors or scream for help. They could only look on helplessly as their boy took shallower and shallower breaths.

Desperately they all wished that they could be more than toys. All of them loved the attention and love they received from the boy as toys. But a toy is not what their boy needed. He needed guardians who’d give him the love and care he deserved. Things as toys they couldn’t give to him. 

At that exact moment of their wish, a shooting star traveled across the sky.


	2. Shooting Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now, I’m sure you know the significance of shooting stars and wishes. If you see a shooting star sail across the sky—quick! Make a wish before it disappears. Shooting stars are said to grant the desires of the heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait, but it's finally here! Thank you to people who yelled at me on Tumblr to start writing otherwise this would've remained sitting in my drafts half-finished :')

Now, I’m sure you know the significance of shooting stars and wishes. If you see a shooting star sail across the sky—quick! Make a wish before it disappears. Shooting stars are said to grant the desires of the heart.

Grown-ups will say that shooting stars are nothing but a meteor burning up in the Earth’s atmosphere. They will say that burning rocks can’t grant wishes, and they are right in that. Shooting star don’t grant wishes; they deliver them. They take up to the fae realm where the fairies capable of granting wishes reside.

There the wishes run free until they’re captured and delivered to the Royal Wish Deposit to be sorted and categorized. First, they must sort them by significance. Then, they judge the heart of the bearer. Finally, it must be determined how much granting the wish would affect the balance of the realms.

So, you see, that is why very few wishes get granted by a fae. If all the wishes in the world were granted, it’d be utter madness. For as much as the fae love chaos, even they are governed by laws. Well, they called them laws. They were more like guidelines.

As fae are the beings who invented the age-old proverb that “Rules are made to be broken.”

That was why when a fae came across the three toys’ wish, he didn’t deliver it to the Deposit. He kept it for himself.

“Shhh,” He whispered to the Wish as it battered its wings against his closed hands, “I’ve got you. You’re safe—tell me your woes.”

He placed the Wish close to his ears, and it whispered the tale of the boy who lived in the attic of a dilapidated house. It told him about the toys’ desires to save their boy from his cruel, uncaring parents. At the end of the story, the fae wiped a single tear from his cheek.

“Oh no, that sounds  _absolutely_  dreadful!” He exclaimed, “we can’t let that happen, can we? What a waste that would be!”

With a snap of his wings, he took off into the sky, the Wish still clenched in his fist. He didn’t fly all the way there. That would be too strenuous of a journey. With an incantation, he teleported to outside the window of the attic.

He crept close to the window, looking into the pitiful scene. The boy laid on the dusty floor in a fitful state of sleep, his hair drenched in sweat. Tucked against his chest was a pale blue teddybear with a piece of grey cloth tied around its neck like a cape. Beside the two a black cat plushie and an owl figurine watched over in a silent vigil.

He watched, fascinated, to see the cat’s tail twitch occasionally and the porcelain owl preen its wings. It was not the first time he’s seen a human child make a toy Real.  But he’d never seen it to this extent. Usually the toy was sentient and could speak but they were immobile. Whoever this boy was, he was powerful.

He flew inside the small opening in the window. The toys were too busy watching over the boy that they didn’t notice his entrance. He adjusted his size to his preferred height, fixed his gloves and then spoke,

“Hello.”

The toys stilled—resembling the inanimate objects that contained their beings. He chuckled, as he stepped closer.

“Now, now, no need of that,” He kneeled down, waving a hand in front of the cat and owl, “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Who are you?” The cat hissed. Now that he was closer, he could see there was only one glass-eye glaring at him. If the stuffed animal had teeth, he was certain it’d bit his hand off.

“It isn’t it obvious?” He grinned, spreading his wings out, “I’m a fairy.”

“A fairy?” The bear asked, wiggling out of the boy’s loose hold, “but I thought fairies were tiny!”

“A common misconception,” The fae scowled, “we can appear to be any size we’d like. Why, I could make you believe I was twenty feet tall.”

“What are you doing here?” The cat demanded, stepping in front of the teddybear protectively.

The cat’s actions amused him. As if a stuffed toy could overpower the might of a fae. Some of his kin would take offense to the cat’s attitude. After all, he was here to grant their wish—they should be groveling at his feet. But the fae found the toy endearing.

“Why, I’m here to grant your wish of course!”

“Our wish?” The owl spoke at last. He had spent up to this moment quietly observing the fae.

“Yes your wish—your hearts’ desires, to be more precise.” The fae explained, “You wish for the boy to have a life where he will be no longer harmed by his parents, correct?”

* * *

 

“You can really do that?” The bear asked, wiggling excitedly.

“Of course, I’m a fae—I can anything!” The fae boasted before grimacing, “well, with some exceptions.”

“What’s in it for you?” The cat hissed. Its’ posture was similar to a real cat with their fur hackle—that is if his worn faux fur was capable of that.

“Why, can’t it be just out of my goodness of my heart?” The fae asked.

“Well, considering there is usually a price for magic, he is right to be suspicious.” The owl said, settling onto the back of the black stuffed cat plushy.

The fae examined the owl for a moment before speaking.

“You’re smart, aren’t you? You’re probably the wisest owl figurine I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

“He is! Logan is so smart!” The bear reaffirmed, his voice giddy and light.

“I mean well—of course I am.” The owl said, obviously taken back by such high praise.

“And if you’re smart, then you must know that as a fae I cannot lie.” He grinned, before his eyes flickered towards the cat, “Please, ask me to tell a lie—any lie at all!”

“…the sky is green?” The cat offered hesitantly.

“The sky is gree—blue.” The fae stumbled over the words, “The sky is not purple. The sky is not pink. The sky is not green. Nor is the sky b-blu--blu—”

Something throttled the fae across the room, causing him to hit the attic wall. The toys looked around nervously. Any moment they expected the boy’s parents to come upstairs to see what the racket was. Would they be able to see the fae? Or would they punish the boy yet again for something he did not deserve?

Fortunately, nothing stirred outside of the attic door and collectively the three let out a nonexistent breath of relief.

The fae groaned, gritting his teeth as he picked himself up from the ground. His wings twitched from being pressed against his body and the wooden floor. Fae wings were delicate and fragile things—made up of pure magic. Wings were a measure of a fae’s power. The bigger and prettier the wings, the more powerful was the fae.

Of course, the toys did not know this fact about the fae. Nor had they been visited by a fae prior to this. They had no idea if his wings were very impressive or not compared with other fae. Regardless, the toys gawked in awe at the wingspan of the glittery yellow butterfly-like appendages.

“You see?” The fae laughed, spreading his arms out wide, “it’s impossible for me to tell a lie! I’m bound by magic to tell the truth, nothing more—nothing less.”

“Tell the truth then—why do you want to grant our wish?” The cat demanded.

“I’m a fae, I grant wishes. It’s what we do.” The fae said, raising an eyebrow, “but truly the brutality humans would have towards their young moved me to action. Especially a young so…gifted. I could not stand to let him to die like that when knowing I had the power to save him from that meaningless fate.”

“Gifted in what ways?” The owl asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” The fae smirked, “how else do you think you three are sentient beings?”

“Love, of course!” The bear burst out, “Our boy loves us so much and we love him too! We’d do anything to save our boy!”

 _‘Anything?’_  The fae wondered. He did not voice this out, however. He chose instead to keep this thought tucked away in the corner of his mind for later.

“It’s more than just love,” The fae said, rolling his eyes, “it’s magic.”

“Love is magical!” The bear said, undeterred by the fae’s words, “Our boy is so loving and kind and brave—please, please grant us our wish!”

“Patton—” The cat started but the owl interrupted him.

“Virgil, your concerns are valid. However, we have no options, and he has promised to bring him somewhere safe, correct?”

“Yes, far away from any cruel grown-ups to the realm of the fae—there you and him can frolic and make merry to your heart’s desire.”

“The land of the fae?” The cat echoed.

The three toys glanced at each other with varying levels of hesitation. Patton, like always, was quick to place his trust in anything and anyone. But the other two were much more cautious and warier of the fae’s offer. But they couldn’t deny that their boy deserved to be happy and safe from the adults that brought nothing but harm to him.

“Well, do you accept?” The fae asked.

“Yes.” They all said in unison.

“Very well, your wish is my command!” With that, the fae snapped his fingers and instantly they all vanished from the dusty attic room.

That is not to say that the parents went unpunished from their neglect. When Child Protection Services visited the premises a few days later, they found a boy clinging to life in the attic. He was a but a pale copy of the boy we all know and love well.

He had teeth that were too sharp and eyes that were too wild. Any smart being would recognize the signs of a changeling. But the human world had long discarded magic as childish, archaic concepts. The adults chalked up the changeling’s eccentricities to stem from abuse at the hands of the parents.

The parents were thrown in prison for their crimes and the changeling was adopted by a loving family.  This is not the end of our tale, however. For deals with the faes are never quite as simple as they seem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmhmm wonder who that yellow-winged fae is? ;)


End file.
